


For A Fleeting Moment

by HoneyYouShouldSeeMeInACrown



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Bottom!Grantaire, Established Relationship, First attempt at smut, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Top!Enjolras, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyYouShouldSeeMeInACrown/pseuds/HoneyYouShouldSeeMeInACrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The revolution never held Grantaire's to the cause. No, it is his beautiful Apollo who holds him enraptured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For A Fleeting Moment

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at a smut fic. Apologies in advance.

The booze had always been an escape for him. Something to distract from the rigid restrictions of French Monarchy. Binding him and his kin from the freedom they desired. His friends were furious, they longed to overthrow. A small part of him wondered why he felt different to the others, he found himself uncaring of the planned revolution, the booze easily quelling any stirring of patriotism. No, Grantaire did not arrive at the ABC Café every night with thoughts of rebellion. His thoughts focused solely upon his Apollo.

 

Lifting the bottle of wine to his lips Grantaire stared at the golden haired, silver tongued Adonis stood at the end of the room delivering a rousing speech to his fellows. Marius, Courfeyrac and Combeferre utterly enraptured by their leader, each shouting words of encouragement. Yet it was Jehan who drew the drunkard's attention, eyes watching Courfeyrac's every movement with a smile. Yes, Grantaire could most definitely relate to the feelings stirred within his friend.

 

A sudden shattering sound had all eyes in the room shooting to look at the presumed empty bar, concern and dread rising within them all. Had their base been infiltrated? They could lose everything before the revolution had even begun to rise. Combeferre slipped his pistol from his waistband and slowly began to approach flanked by Courfeyrac and Enjolras himself. Silence fell upon the room as the trio began to round the counter eyes fixed upon the location of the disturbance.  
  
  
Combeferre's eyes flew wide with relief and then irritation as he finally rounded the counter, pistol immediately lowering to his side. “Gavroche! You were told not to come here tonight.” he sighed in irritation as he gripped the young boys shoulder, towing him out from his crouched position behind the bar. 

 

The boy's face lit up in a trademark grin. “I don't know why you bother giving me these warnings. When have I ever listened to them?” He replied cheekily, Grantaire unable to stop a small chuckle falling from his lips at the sound. Something immediately regretted as Enjolras' eyes span to him, narrowing with distaste at the sight of the bottle in his lovers hand. Ah, that had been a problem since the very moment they'd begun to sleep together. His Apollo hated to see him tainted by the villainous booze, mind sullied by its destructive effects. Most of the time Grantaire tried to stay sober in the others company but tonight he'd found himself unable to resist the temptation presented.

 

“Perhaps it would be better if you escorted young Gavroche home” Marius suggested, fixing his waistcoat as he stood. “Perhaps it is time we all made our way home. The hour is late at hand, we do not want anyone stumbling in on this meeting. Next time we might not be fortunate for it to be an ally."

  
Finally Enjolras was able to tear his gaze away from Grantaire and his half drunken bottle to fix back upon the group. “Yes, I believe you are right Marius. Everyone get yourselves home, we will reconvene tomorrow outside General LaMarque's. We will stir up a crowd. Sleep well my friends. Vive La France”.

 

“Vive La France!” The rest of the group chimed enthusiastically as they began to file downstairs, Gavroche led forcibly down, Jehan with his arm around Courfeyrac. Only as Marius and the others remaining left did Enjolras move from his perch by the top table, weaving his way through the tables in what appeared to be a sultry manner to Grantaire's drink addled mind. Though had he been sober he was certain it would still have been sexual to him.

 

“'Taire, why must you fill your body with poison so frequently” he sighed, placing his own hand around the bottle to keep the other from drinking any more. “Why must you block the artistry within you?” he raised his hand to brush through the mass of brunette hair, brushing it back fondly. “I hate to see you so out of your mind”

 

A small smile formed upon Grantaire's lips at the touch, his head turning into the hand in a feline like manner. “Ah my Apollo you overestimate the level of my drunkenness. I am perfectly lucid I assure you, just a little merry. A little drop more cannot hurt surely when sleep is soon to overtake me anyway.” he looked into the pale blue eyes he so loved, a smirk turning the corners of his lips. “Unless there is something I need to remain lucid for?”

  
Enjolras laughed softly, taking his lovers free hand and helping him up onto his admittedly unsteady feet. “Let us get you home before you pass out where you sit. It wouldn't be the first time” he teased lightly as his strong arm wrapped around the drunkard's waist, holding him close and starting to walk.

  
Bursting out onto the street below Grantaire raised his gaze up to the sky above, the stars twinkling in the blackest sky. “I do wonder sometimes if that is to be where we all end up. Watching on from the night sky as the world carries on below us. Always watching, never changing. Though I don't think you could hold yourself back from interfering.”

 

Tightening his arm as the winds blew cold through the winding streets Enjolras smiled at his lover. “No. I think perhaps you are right on that account 'Taire. But someone must take up the crusade or things will never change. Bravery must rise so that life can be changed for the better, so that future generations can live in a Patria we can be proud of. A utopia.

  
“Ah the Patria. At times I wonder who the mistress is in this relationship. It is most peculiar to share you with an entire country my Apollo. Though I wouldn't change the way you are. We balance one another, two sides to the same coin. Cynicism versus idealism” Grantaire mused as they slipped into his building, starting to ascend the stairs to his third floor flat. Nothing special of course. A simple bedsit with one room set apart as his art studio when the muse decided to bless him, granted all of his artwork of late had centred around his Golden haired lover, drawings and paintings of his partner scattered around the room.

 

Enjolras unlocked the door and helped Grantaire stumble across the threshold. “Sleep awhile 'Taire. You need to be fresh and prepared for the morning.” He aided his lover to sit upon the end of the bed, dropping to one knee and starting to remove the paint splattered boots. 

  
As his bare feet were placed carefully upon the wooden floor the artist reached out to pull his younger companion up into his lap giving him no time to respond as he pressed their lips together tightly letting the words of protest be swallowed by his own lips. Any objection to the current situation slipped away from Enjolras as their lips began to move with more desire, teeth and tongues nipping and sliding against the supple skin.

  
It was never long before the blonde's naturally dominant personality would take charge—something Grantaire was not at all surprised extended to the bedroom—he twisted to straddle the brunette, pushing him back onto the mattress as his lips simultaneously began to leave soft marks upon the tender flesh of his lovers neck.

 

Heady moans rose from the brunette's throat as his leader bit down, the blood rushing to form a purple purple bruise upon the affected skin, the curved hips which Enjolras had already mapped out perfectly rose up to meet the hardness above, the action causing both men to moan in tandem, adrenaline and desire doubling as the chemicals raced through their veins, filling their very hearts themselves.

 

Grantaire gripped his hands in the beloved red fabric of his revolutionary's jacket, nails digging into the material as he began a steady grind of his hips, their clothed erections rubbing together in a delicious yet torturous pleasure. It was hard to keep himself focused enough to keep up the pressure but he knew well how to get his Apollo's pulse racing. He knew how rutting drove him wild. Sure enough within a minute strong hands began to pull at the fastenings of the quickly sobering man's trousers, freeing his aching cock to the cool air of the bedroom.

 

Although he would deny it if he was questioned he was certain the needy whimper that escaped was from his own lips. No doubt Enjolras would remind him of it when they had both ascended to the peak their bodies had begun to long for, the beads of liquid gathering upon the pink head obvious to his state of desire. Praising the heaven's above Grantaire looked down as his Apollo lifted off him making short work of stripping his own clothing. He was certain a slow paced torture as Enjolras sometimes favoured would quite possibly have been his very end. Raising his shoulders he shirked off his own shirt and pushed off the pants from where they remained around his muscular thighs. The distraction it seemed had given his lover the upper hand once more as when his eyes found those pale blue ones once more he found himself pinned by the predatory look in them.  
  
  
With naught but a low growl the rebellious youth slipped back above his lover, tilting his neck to take the pulsing head between his two plump lips, eyes never leaving the face of the one he loved. Watching as the passion played across it, watching as pursed lips slipped apart to release a wanton moan. God how he loved to take apart the artist piece by piece, playing his body as though it was a musical instrument. Extracting delicious moans from those plump lips without fail. He adored how vocal Grantaire could be for him. And yet even as he longed for a taste of his sweet release his own body began to plead for mercy. To plead for the warmth that would always welcome him home. With one last kiss to the weeping head he slipped up to kiss his companion deeply, spreading the salty taste into that beautiful mouth as his hand gathered up the small bottle of oil which lay on the bedside cabinet. Within moments two slicked digits circled the puckered entrance which he desired so fervently. “Ready 'Taire?”

  
“Always my Apollo” he whispered softly as he spread his supple thighs wider, gasping into the cool air as the fingers pushed their way inside of him, probing him in such a way that every other thought slipped from his mind. Everything focusing upon the blonde Adonis smiling down upon him. Briefly he began to question how he could have possibly have attained such a beauty as his lover, Enjolras however had other plans, distracting the drunkard's mind with several playful brushes of his prostate. Each caress causing his hips to jerk wildly and his lips to part with obscene groans.

 

By the time three fingers were buried deep inside him Grantaire was lost to the throes of passion, unknown strings of curses slipping his lips with an increasing frequency only making way to pleas for his lover to replace his fingers with something more substantial. Something which was soon to be granted, said fingers pulling themselves free with a lewd popping sound. “Relax 'Taire. I'm here. I have you” Enjolras soothed, brushing sweat coated curls from his lovers flushed forehead. Control. He had to remain in some manner of control here. He wouldn't let himself climax before his lover. Taking a minute to calm himself he sat back on his heals to observe the beauty lying below him. Ah Grantaire, a cause he would always go to battle for.

 

His musing didn't last long, desire welling within him once more. He needed to be within his consort, to be bonded to him immediately. Even in their current proximity he wasn't close enough. Only sparing enough time to slick up his own thick cock he shifted to lie over Grantaire, blunt head pressed readily to his entrance. As their lips met in a tender kiss he began to push inside, slowly making his way fully into the welcoming warmth, muffled moans mixing against kiss bruised lips.

 

Their first time together had been a somewhat clumsy affair, elbows and knees clumsily catching one another inappropriately. But not now. Now they knew each other well, they had learnt and taught each other in equal measure forming a partnership. A teamwork evident as their sweat slicked bodies writhed perfectly against one another, rough hands stroking soft skin, lips kissing and tongues twisting in a well practices dance. Their hips moved in a perfect rhythm, every upwards thrust from Enjolras met by a roll of Grantaire's hips, every movement resulting in a desperate moan. The artist's head rolled back in ecstasy as a familiar hand wrapped itself around his long length, stroking in time with the firm thrusts, prostate being struck hard enough to make him scream in pleasure.

 

Enjolras knew it wouldn't be long until his lover came, the tightening of the muscles around him evidence of that. His own climax would soon be upon him too he was sure of that. Though his eyes fought to flutter shut he forced them to remain fixed upon Grantaire's face longing to see it break into bliss. To see the beauty of his climax decorate the pale skin. A smile creased his lips as the tell tale signs began to show. The crinkling of his brow line, the soft pants of his lips, the arching of his neck. Yes. Sure enough within moments warm liquid coated his own stomach and Enjolras' hand, his Apollo's name the last word upon his pleasured lips. But even in his sated state Grantaire kept rocking his tired hips, a satisfied grin covering his face as he dragged his lover to his own climax, warmth spilling deep within him.

 

With the very last vestige of strength he had remaining the young revolutionary was able to withdraw from his lover and collapse boneless beside him, moaning in satisfaction. “I love you my 'Taire” he whispered, pushing back all thoughts of their battle for the night. His only focus Grantaire.

  
“I love you too my dearest Apollo” Grantaire answered, shifting to press a tender kiss to his partners lips. “Always.” He smiled down upon his love for a long moment until sleep finally grew overpowering, his head falling to rest upon the muscular chest below him, happy and peaceful in Enjolras protective embrace.

 

In time their crusade may bring them troubles too great for them to remain safe and sound but for tonight they would enjoy the simple pleasure of being together. Under the shining stars they fell into a restful slumber. Two hearts beating in unity.

 


End file.
